Rare Weekends
by Tigerdust
Summary: Jack tries to get a bit more organized. Some Janto naughtiness from fluffy to woah . I'm still not RTD, nor have I met Barrowman. And never offer Ianto lemon pudding, just a tip.


He knows that I'm watching him. The Rift has been quiet for a large portion of the day. But during this week, it has been pure hell trying to find a moment to be with him. The closest I can get is sipping his special blend coffee while watching him clean.

There are a few subtle differences to his organization when he knows I watch him. Slower hand movements, a special toss of his head to let his eyes rove over me just briefly. It all makes me want him; makes me want to feel him massaging my shoulders. I shake myself. I'm not known for my utter discretion, am I? I chuckle at the thought.

I'm also not known for being organized; which is another reason I love Ianto so. He keeps me on track, well, when I'm not thinking about him, that is. The others have all gone home; it's just the two of us. You see, it was my idea to have this rotating system for the weekends so no one person, or the team itself, would get too burnt out. Each person would take a turn with the beeper and contact the others. This week, Ianto was in luck. Rather, Ianto and I were in luck.

"_Tea boy, it's your turn with the beeper this week," Owen chimed in at the last board room meeting._

"_Well, of course it is. I came up with the schedule." Ianto gave Owen such a patronizing glare. I almost feel like a spectator at a tennis match some days._

"_Actually, I would like to take the beeper this weekend." _

"_Gwen, you're a newlywed. I can't let you do that."_

"_No, I insist! Rhys and I have finished with all the mandatory family things and it's just the two of us now. I'd rather like to keep him at bay from the child question a bit longer if I can. And it's not like I don't owe Ianto a favor. He took my honeymoon weekend." Out of the corner of her eye, she winks at me while taking a swig of his coffee._

_I clap my hands together. "Well, then," I snipe a quick glance at Owen, "Does anyone have any objections? No, good! It's settled then."_

_As we head back toward the heart of the Hub, Tosh lingers to organize her laptop and signals me over. She slips a bit of a blue post-it note in my hand. _

"_What was that?"_

"_Nothing, Ianto. Don't worry about it." Ianto arches an eyebrow._

"_Sir, the day I stop worrying about you is the day I've stopped breathing."_

"_Duly noted, then."_

Tosh, Owen, and Gwen all leave for a drink at the pub. They don't expect me because I really don't like pubs, and they never expect Ianto because he's always staying behind to clean. Once a month, like with the rotation schedule, we all make a point of going out for pizza together. They call it team building. I call it an opportunity to play footsy with Ianto and make his ears go all red. Which reminds me...

Jack grabs a small spiral notebook from the drawer and a black pen and begins to scribble down some words:

1) Lemmings.

I figure that I should start keeping some sort of log of these little things, things that might seem inconsequential but that I don't want to forget. How do lemmings and his ears relate? Well, I know that his ears are red right now and that I can't especially see him in my line of vision. With the stealth of a cheetah, I climb up into a chair behind him. He's at his work station humming the Star Trek theme and playing Lemmings. The giveaway was that his ears were red.

"Gotcha!" I've ruined his game.

"Jack, you did that on purpose!" He swats at me, half in annoyance and half in complete love with me.

"I'm sorry. How about I make it up with dinner?" He shuts down the console.

"As long as its not in an office." Ianto winks at me as he heads out the door to change.

"Formal wear, Ianto!"

He waves in acknowledgment and I swear I hear him say, _Yes, sir!_ As the door closes behind him.

2) Swing dancing

Okay, you wouldn't know by looking at him, or maybe you would as he noiselessly sneaks up behind you with coffee, but Ianto has the most beautiful inner rhythm. I surprised him with this little date at our favorite tuxedo supper club on the night of their swing competition. The first prize is one hundred quid, but money doesn't mean a lot to me. The ultimate reward is holding Ianto. I rarely hold another like I hold Ianto then; in time with the music. My trademark boyish bangs flopping about and his blazer turning in the wind. The dinner, as always, is magnificent. But what I can't wait for is dessert.

3) Pudding cups

What did you think I was talking about? Well, that's just naughty, and so correct. We get back to his place and he asks if I'd like dessert. Naturally, I take charge and hold him firmly against the back of the door, ready to kiss him.

"Yes, well, Ianto breathes heavily as he slips away from my kiss, that wasn't quite what I meant."

"Well, then, what did you have in mind?"

Ianto slips from beneath my grasp and I can see him fiddling about in the kitchen. He pulls two little containers out of the fridge, along with whipped cream. I like where this is going.

"What's the whipped cream for, Ianto Jones?"

"I love it when you use my last name like that."

"What, _Jones_?"

"Why don't you come in the kitchen and find out?"

"Ianto, you tease!" I'm grinning from ear to ear; well, honestly, who wouldn't be?

I dip my pinky in the homemade bowl of chilled whipped cream and roll my eyes to the counter as he retrieves a spoon.

"Oh, come on Ianto!"

"What? I would never serve naked pudding cups, sir!" He takes the spoon and creates a swirl of white on the dark chocolate background.

"I'll get you for teasing me like this, Ianto Jones." I murmur with a slight growl in my voice, against his ear. He maneuvers himself behind me as I go to taste his neck, breathing in that lovely mixture of coffee bean and Irish Spring. God, the Welsh are an infuriatingly sexy race!

"Empty words, sir." He challenges me, knowing full well he can hold out much longer than I. Tonight, a game we shall play. A dance of seduction; a kind of aroused version of chicken. Ianto turns as I nuzzle into his neck, just briefly and enough to open the kitchen door to stick the bowl of whipped cream back in. He tosses the spoon in the sink over my arm, but not before I see the shelf.

"Are you serious?"

"Jack?"

"You have your puddings color-coded?"

Ianto opens the refrigerator door, slightly confused, as if that were a normal thing. "What? I don't want to get them mixed up do I? Dark chocolate in black cups, butterscotch in yellow cups, and vanilla cream in white."

"But what if you want lemon pudding?"

"Oh, sir. I never eat lemon pudding. Shall we eat in the living room?"

"How about the bedroom?"

"What kind of boy do you think I am, Captain Jack Harkness?"

"My _Welsh_ boy." I growl into his ear low and excited.

"Well, right now, I'm your _hungry_ Welsh boy." Ianto grabs the pudding cups and smoothly moves around Jack's embrace to the couch. They begin to eat slowly, each taking a few amused seconds before the other takes an exaggerated bite.

I just couldn't take it anymore. I dipped my finger down into my pudding, and licked my finger with my tongue, taking care to watch the quiver in his atom's apple as I did so.

"That's so..."

"Hot?" I offer.

"Unsanitary."

"No, no. This would be unsanitary." Jack takes another dip with the same finger and leans forward. Ianto takes the offered pudding gratefully, and Jack leans forward a bit more until he's hovering over Ianto. "I seem to have gotten a bit on your shirt, Ianto. Maybe we should clean that up."

"You made the mess, you clean it up sir."

My senses inflame with passion as I begin undoing his buttons with my teeth, in rhythm with Ianto's heartbeat. I kiss him from his bellybutton back to his collarbone, his leg moving just so it drapes over the top of mind. His hands find rest in my back pocket and I kiss him, hard and needy.

"That's just unfair Jack. I could catch a cold out here. Maybe we should finish these in the bedroom."

"I love you, Ianto Jones."

4) Soduko

Have I mentioned the hot, sweaty lovemaking? Okay, a gentleman never tells. Luckily, I'm no gentleman. There was this one time involving pot roast and ketchup... In any case, he's up before I am, even on a Saturday. We hold each other until neither can stay awake into the night, or rather until Ianto can't stay awake anymore. He once told me that then, he'd dream about us for a few seconds right when he first closes his eyes. I shivered when I heard that, in a good way of course.

The heat of after is that moment that I actually crave almost as much as being inside Ianto and him inside me in various ways. I believe, avant garde is how he put it to Martha. I still giggle from her telling me that. Watching the moon creep forward as he burrows into my side, half breaks my heart and halfway makes me fall further for him. Someone who would choose to stay beside me all through the night; knowing that I've been a coward, a cur, and a reckless man, but still loves me beyond all his rational thought. He quivers a slight second when I kiss the top of his forehead before I fall asleep.

The dappled rays of the Cardiff sun unearth me from my cotton tomb and I peek around for just a second. I reach for my pants, today they've made it to the back of his chair, a new tossing record, and I can hear him humming. I don't disturb him for these first few peaceful seconds; couldn't bear of thought of doing it.

Ianto Jones sits, one leg tucked behind one knee with the other leg sprawled out across the couch. When his brow furrows, the pencil automatically twirls around his lip, never biting. His daily dose of Soduko shores up his mind, he tried to explain it to me once. It's basically, I think, a way of getting himself organized for his day. His navy blue mug of steaming tea sits by his side and every few numbers, he'll go aha and grant himself a minor victory by taking a sip. I lean against the doorway and watch until he finishes, the scene too quaint to disturb.

Just when I do cough, he looks up slightly surprised but not annoyed. "Tea's on the kettle, Jack."

5) Bicycles

"So, what did you have planned for us this weekend? I know you were up to something."

"Me? I'm completely innocent."

"Liar."

"You caught me. But before we start anything, how about a shower?"

After an invasive shower, courtesy of the very adept Captain Jack Harkness, and the necessary follow-up shower, I instruct Ianto to bring a long a couple of sweaters and wear jeans while I pack a small lunch. He gives me a slightly dubious look, but obeys. He leaps before me as the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it. You just bring the lunches."

"Bicycles, Jack?" He looks momentarily stunned as I stand there checking the air pressure.

"I've rented them for the weekend."

"And exactly where do you think we'll be going on bicycles in the middle of fall in Cardiff?"

"Patience, Jones, patience." You've got to believe me, that grin can be infuriating some days.

"How do you know I can even ride a bike?"

"I saw you doing it in your photo album. And you know what they say..."

"I was ten then Jack, and still in the Young Pioneers Club!"

"Don't you trust me?" I give him the puppy dog eyes. All hail the puppy dog eyes.

Sigh. "Alright, Jack, I give. I trust you."

6) Ianto Loves Labs and Yorkies

"So exactly where are we going?"

"You'll see," I hum as he rides beside me. I wave to most of the people we pass. Cardiff is such a friendly place in the daylight. We stop when his tire deflates outside a white-walled shop.

"I thought you checked the air pressure."

"I did. I did."

Sigh. "Very well, let's go into the shop and ring the bicycle repair place."

"Nonsense, you just go in and see if we can borrow a cup of air."

"Ha Ha, Jack."

"I'm serious, Ianto. This lack of trust is severely unsettling." All hail the trembling Harkness lip.

"I bloody don't know what I'm gonna do with you," Ianto mutters and then stops as he hears a small whimper.

"Jack, I, I think we've stopped in front of a pet store."

"Why, how did that happen?"

"Jack..."

"Okay, okay. Look, Tosh and I were passing through here once on the way back from a mission and she might have happened to mention you missed having a dog or two around being in a flat."

"You planned this." His looks of feigned shock are adorable.

"I certainly did."

A elderly male voice calls out from the shop. "Mr. Harkness? We're ready for you."

"What have you done Jack?" Jack goes in and return with two squirming bundles and a leather leash with a yellow lab on the end of it.

"Meet Max, his sister Violet, and their stepbrother Andrew. The folks at Planned Puppyhood have asked as to take them out for a run in the park. We'll be puppy-sitting all day."

"Oh Jack." He kisses me.

"Oops, Ianto. Don't squish Violet."

"Oh, sorry. Don't quite know what came over me."

The day is perfect as the leaves fall all around us. Ianto running with the pups back and forth, wrestling around and not caring how dirty his sweater gets. My lovely Ianto with sweat and a slight tear of joy running back to me as I produce a ball from one of my pockets. The look he gives me as the dogs pant at our feet as we enjoy our ham sandwiches on a pleasant Saturday afternoon.

7) Ianto Has A Fire Fetish

Okay, well fetish might be a strong word. All I know is that we took some leftover pot roast, a couple of blankets and spent Saturday night under the stars. What we didn't have as it was getting dark were any matches. I didn't complain much.

But Ianto, always the trooper picked out a small log and began to use the friction technique. He was covered with flecks of ash, but didn't care. As the fire grew, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, wiping away the ash with my trademark boyish bangs.

I spread out the blankets and leaned back on the rock as he set the remains of the pot roast in our pack, to be disposed of later. He snuggles into me, and I can feel myself getting hard with his weight in all the appropriate places. He kisses me in the firelight, so grateful for my presence. Even though I should be the one thanking him.

All alone in the universe, our clothes are shed and I hear my Ianto moan as he kisses me, pressed against my flesh. My hard cock begs for entrance; begs to be apart of his very being. He hovers over me for a teasing second and then brings himself down.

I kiss him as I began to arch and pump myself in and out of him and he leans back, skin glowing almost orange as it reflects the fire. He hisses and crackles with the logs and twigs. I can feel him ready to burst as I lean back, anchored against the rock, and take his cock in my own hand. The heat and the sweat overcome friction as we give one unified groan and he cums on my chest, exploding close to my lips and I cum in him. He collapses on top of me as I bring the second blanket up over us both, not that we need it to keep warm. An illusion of decency? That's all for him too.

8) The DIY Network puts Ianto to sleep

It's even better than warm milk. How do I know?

When it becomes Sunday afternoon around four, he'll switch on his tele to "This Old House" and often enough, after checking the Rift activity via remote computer, I'll find him perched half over the couch. His mouth with be pursed open just a little bit with Bob Villa droning on the screen. He might mutter "juggling chainsaws" or "use a rubber mallet", but I'll just chuckle lightly and kiss his open mouth before I scoop him into bed so I can change the channel to football.

Jack closes the notebook, and looks back at his notes, a wistful smile creeping across his face. Sometimes the rare weekends make the best lovers.


End file.
